


abolish & consume

by patrexes



Series: Kinktober 2019 [11]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clothed Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Exhibitionism, F/F, Kinktober 2019, Sexual Cannibalism | Hard Vore, Snuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-30 09:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrexes/pseuds/patrexes
Summary: Livia has always loved a good fire.





	abolish & consume

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: vorarephilia  
24 dec '19 ETA: there's [fanart](https://twitter.com/yogoshite/status/1208595612486262784) now!

Gridania was the last to fall. When it did at last concede to the might of the Empire, it _toppled_, in the way of all trees, and could but count itself lucky it did not burn.

Livia struck a match in the Lotus Stand, and held it before Kan-E-Senna’s face, close enough she’d likely feel on her cheeks the heat even the tiny flame cast off. The flickering reflection that shone in the Padjal woman’s eyes was not quite fear, but a quickly-sinking acceptance. “The Empire has no need of timber,” Livia said, voiced pitched for their audience, “and no fear of unseated gods. The fate of this land falls to you.”

She dropped the match. Watched Kan-E-Senna’s eyes widen; mouth fall open; narrow shoulders heave. The grass at Livia’s feet—the grass on which Kan-E-Senna knelt—was drenched in refined ceruleum, and so it caught.

“Please.” Her voice was flat, broken as if in the way of packhorses. Far too _removed_ to be genuine.

“Beg.”

“I _have_.” And here, her voice caught on its desperation, sounding as young as she looked. A false youth, as Livia understood it, frozen forever in time: Kan-E-Senna was not the fresh-faced little girl she seemed, but a shrewd politician older than Livia herself. She knew what she was doing, what imperative she had as a felled leader. Livia Gaii, soon to be Livia sas Junius per the agreement she and her father had come to—having done with a century what the full force of the XIVth could not, he would be fool to forbid her early enlistment—knew she would for the sake of those in _her_ charge be compelled to the very same.

“You’ve certainly _spoken_, I’ll grant you that,” said Livia evenly. The patch of vegetation aflame between them grew with every passing second. “But to call it begging…”

“_Please_, girl. Whatever you want of me, I will give it without reservation, but pray _end this_ before you are so steeped in woodsin you’ve as good as slaughtered your own people as well.”

There were no tears, which was a shame, but Livia supposed it would have to do. She stamped out the fire, and with her armored hand took hold of Kan-E-Senna’s jaw, pulling her close so that Kan-E-Senna needed cling to Livia’s thighs for balance. Her hands were so _small_. “Your mouth,” she ordered. “Show all gathered here the depths of your devotion.”

Kan-E-Senna clutched at the carbon-weave of Livia’s trousers and crawled nearer on her knees. Reached up searching at Livia’s waistband, beneath the hem of her secutor’s tunic, secured from the quartermaster of her borrowed century and hems too long for her still. Livia smacked her hand away, caught up Kan-E-Senna’s hair in her hand and positioned the woman by force.

“Through the fabric will suffice.”

The Seedseer mouthed through the heavy weave of her trousers, sucking as best she could at Livia’s clit; used the drag of teeth to stimulate what her tongue could not. Little of the process was erotic, save the thrill of getting a world leader on her knees before a hushed crowd. But it was not meant to be pleasurable—it was meant to be a _statement_. And so thus before the remains of her government, Kan-E-Senna was made to kneel on char and lave at the enemy’s cunt until their legs shook unsteady beneath them both. Livia dragged Kan-E-Senna up by the hair as her cunt clenched around nothing, bent down to meet her open, gasping lips and taste the bitterness of herself on Kan-E-Senna’s tongue.

Bit down, hard, and tasted the bloom of copper-bright blood as well.

Livia brought her free hand down to gather up Kan-E-Senna’s skirts as the woman whined into her mouth. Pressed into her dry cunt three curling fingers, armored in not standard-issue gloves but Livia’s own gauntlets she wore in her training. Her other hand she knotted into Kan-E-Senna’s hair with force enough to wrench her head back to nearly a right angle. Kan-E-Senna cried out with blood in her mouth, in her cunt, on her bruised scalp, and Livia tore into her in every way she knew how, with fingers and teeth and shame.

Bit down, and through, and ripped free Kan-E-Senna’s tongue from a worthless, powerless mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. Laughed.

Pulled free her fingers from her conquest’s little virgin cunt and let Kan-E-Senna fall to the ground. Blood filled her mouth, dripping down her chin, and her face was bone-white. Already fading. _Hardly_ any fun.

Livia sucked her fingers clean and watched the woman die. Her Lord would be ever so pleased.


End file.
